Rivers and Fireflies
by freakochicko
Summary: She misses the talks about demons and the devil and angels and death and home and fire and poison… And she lies to herself. About everything… ONESHOT. Contains character deaths. Dark fic. X3 spoilers. Ryro if you squint.


**Rivers and Fireflies**

She knows there's no turning back once she decides what she wants to do. And she decides to do it only because she thinks she's dreaming. She's sure she's asleep. So very sure. And so, as she's running, she doesn't stop to think. No _'what ifs'_ and no _'maybes'_. She knows that in this nightmare, nothing is real.

She feels bare and naked and almost physically _weak _without them and wretchedly regrets her ill-timed determination of choosing to stick a needle into her translucent skin and murder who she was from the inside.

As she runs, she passes through the open oak doors, the green courtyard, the three gravestones, the unbolted ornamental gates and she never once looks back.

She doesn't have them anymore. No. The cloth, the leather-- her gloves. All gone. Her whole collection of them that she used to keep in her dresser drawers. They don't cloak her skin any longer because she doesn't need them. She keeps a pair for her sake though, ebony black leather, and she hides it in her pockets like a dirty secret she never wants anyone to expose.

She's still running. And she hopes no one realizes she's gone. She _knows_ no one will really care. They're all past caring. Them _all_.

_He's_ lost his love at the battle and he cares for nothing more. She misses his fatherly tenderness. Not that he ever knows.

_He's_ got someone else and doesn't love her anymore. She doesn't miss him as much because he has his kitty cat.

And _he_…? He's not even _there_. He ran away. Because he _could_. And she thinks what he did was the smartest thing he's ever done.

She makes for the woods, where she knows not a soul wound dare enter. She's been there once. And only once. But not alone.

And because of the company, she decided she liked the woods.

The leaves rustle past her as she finally slows to a walk. Her hair snares in the trees and she doesn't care. Greens and browns entangle in silvery white locks as she advances deeper into the woods. She frantically tries to look out for signs, something, anything, that would enable her to find again, the place where she had sat from dusk till dawn with _him_.

They had talked, just sitting there in the moonlight. Talked about people, random things, demons and the devil and angels and death and home and fire and poison… amongst other things. She wants so badly to hear his voice again but realizes she _can't_. She wants to talk to him again, knows she's never said a single 'goodbye' when he walked off into the cold. But he's told her once, only weeks before he left, _"don't tell me goodbye when I decide to leave. Don't say a word when my choice is made."_

And now she thinks back, she understands what he'd implied back then. He had planned to leave since _forever._ It was not on impulse. He was _'sick of all this kids' table shit'_ and her boyfriend thinks it was just his frustration with sitting in there feeling helpless. She knows better now. He's been sick of it _all _for the years he's been in the school.

She kept her promise not to say a thing. His last glance at her was his final one. And it spoke volumes of what he was feeling at that point of no return. And she acted like it meant nothing. Means nothing still. But one can lie… right?

And when she finally finds it, it still looks beautiful. The slow winding river at the heart of the forest. They'd sat there that night. It was wonderful.

She approaches the river hesitantly, her dark hair billowing about her in the wind. It looks deep as she peers down the steep cliff. The current is swift and strong. The jagged rocks are razor-sharp and rigid.

And she takes another look around.

This was it. She's run so far now and this was it. Her finish line. Her end point. She thinks again; there's no turning back from this. It's the path she's chosen, ever since she walked out that institute door. Just like it was the path _he'd_ chosen when he walked out the door of the jet.

The sky casts a bloody glow on her pale skin. It looks only like shades of gray to her however. She no longer has the power to start thinking about _'what ifs' _and _'maybes'_ because she's long past that point. And she takes a step forward so that she is standing at the edge of the overhanging ledge. The waters below look so inviting and she closes her eyes, ready to take another step. Ready to plunge into the death trap below.

And then something stops her. She thinks she hears rustling of leaves and crackling of twigs from behind. But it barely registers in her mind. No, something else stopped her.

"You promised. You swore. You gave your word, Marie, that if one of us decides to do it, we'd jump _together_."

And the voice makes her shiver. And makes her break out into a smile. But she doesn't turn to look back at him as she feels him come closer. She doesn't say anything because she knows there's no need for words.

What he said had stopped her from taking her step. But only for a little while.

Only for a little while.

-

They don't run away. They don't look back. They only embrace, and take their final step forward.

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_-A/N-: This is what must be my hundredth attempt at the angst genre. This one was tough to write. It's one of my more bizarrely styled fics. Please review and I'll love you to death._


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